


The Minion Affair

by spikesgirl58



Series: Halloween Challenge 2020 [5]
Category: Despicable Me (Movies), Minions (2015), The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: When you've lost two of your best agents into the clutches of THRUSH, who do you turn to?  Why, Gru, of course...
Series: Halloween Challenge 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975084
Comments: 8
Kudos: 9





	The Minion Affair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duckys_lady](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=duckys_lady).



It might be a mistake, but it was hardly the first in Alexander Waverly’s career. In fact, he’d prided himself upon thinking on his feet and following his gut instincts. Looking now at the dozens of small yellow creatures crowded into his office, he wasn’t quite sure.

The man standing next to him wore a harsh black and grey outfit, his profile hawk like and his manner slightly menacing.

“How should I address them?” Waverly asked the man. After all, Gru knew these creatures better than anyone else. They were his minions.

“Just talk to them. It’s their answers that can be tricky.” Gru never thought he’d see an actual spy organization in action. When he’d heard the minions chattering about it, he assumed it was just one of their other little ‘sidelines.’ Now it appeared they were on the money.

“Very well. Excuse me, please.” Waverly tried to make himself heard above the gibberish.

“Listen up,” Gru shouted and the minions immediately settled down. “I have discovered that the most direct route is the best when dealing with them.” There was a sudden explosion from the back and Gru pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Cut it out, Dave! Now pay attention!” To Waverly, he murmured, “I blame Kuryakin for that.”

“Indeed, Mr. Kuryakin does have a way with explosives.” Waverly cleared his throat and tried again. “Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin have been missing for several days and we fear for their lives. We at UNCLE have come to a dead end and I was hoping you could help me out. We suspect they are being held somewhere in this area.” He put up a slide. It was of a half-peeled banana. The room fell into awed silence amid moans of “Ooooo” and “Ahhhh”. “Who put that in there?”

A taller minion took that moment to study the walls and attempted to whistle. Minions are lousy whistlers as a rule.

“Not funny, Bob.” Gru kept his voice monotone. “We are dealing with friends of ours. Granted Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin work for the good guys, it is in our best interest to keep them around.”

“Okay, boss.” Stuart saluted him and turned back to his fellow minions. He barks a series of commands that could have been anything from “Gentlemen, start your engines!” to “Let’s all sit in the corner and knit.”

Waverly didn’t know, but suddenly there was great energy in the room and the minions rushed out, shouting “Solo! Turiton!” Anxious, he turned back to Gru who was smiling a sort of evil Cheshire cat grin. 

“Where are they going?”

“Your agents are as good as rescue. Now, about our payment…”

Illya Kuryakin rubbed his side and stared out the barred window. Even if it wasn’t, it was still a three story drop straight down. He could barely walk across the room and he was in much better shape than his partner. Grunting, he stood and shuffled across the floor. The ankle manacles didn’t allow for any fast movement. For that, he was secretly grateful.

“Hey, Napoleon, how are you feeling?”

“About the same as when you asked five minutes ago,” Napoleon murmured, not opening his eyes from his spot on the thin mattress. He didn’t need to. They were both all too familiar with the small room in which they were held for the past week. “What do you suppose this was originally?”

Illya snorted. “Baba Yaga’s summer home?”

“It’s nice to see your sense of humor is still intact.”

“About the only thing that is.” Illya limped to the door and put his ear against it. “Nothing.”

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I could do with a bit of a rest before our next session.”

Illya eased himself down beside his partner and lifted the makeshift bandage on his forehead. “At least you’ve stopped bleeding. I really dislike head wounds.”

“Great for sympathy, not so much for anything else.” There was a long pause. “Illya?”

“Yes?”

“Have they asked you anything?”

“Nothing of any consequence. They just keep pounding on me… and not very effectively, either. I can’t remember the last time I came out of a THRUSH beating without a broken bone or two.”

“I wonder what they are playing… no, that couldn’t be it.”

“What couldn’t be it, Napoleon? You are talking in riddles.”

“We were snatched in upper New York state, right?”

“Yes.”

“I heard tell that there’s a… no, I can’t even bring myself to say it, it’s so pathetic of an idea.”

“Napoleon, I’m sore, tired and very, very hungry, don’t make me come over there.”

“When I was growing up, I heard tell of this place in New York, just over the border. The house had been used as a sanitarium for relatives that families didn’t want to acknowledge. The proprietor was a sadistic ghoul and did horrible things to the unfortunates placed in his care. Eventually there was an uprising and his victims brought him to a gruesome or pretty horrific end. You can imagine what a draw that was to a teenage boy.”

Illya had become more alert. “Well, to most of them, yes. Was there any verification of this?”

“Sadly, yes. There was a lot of supporting documentation. A few years after the place had been abandoned, a story rose that the doctor’s spirit still lurked and if anyone could produce enough negative energy, it would call it forth and be under the control of that person.”

“And you think… You’re right, it is pretty pathetic, but it sounds like something up THRUSH’s alley.” Illya sighed and stood back. “It used to be so easy, you know?” He went back to the window and looked out.

“Maybe it’s time to think about retiring… when and if we can get out of here, but unless you’ve got some magic up your sleeve…”

A movement caught Illya’s eye. He looked back at Napoleon and smiled carefully to keep his lip from splitting. “Say the magic word and win a prize.”

“A rescue party?”

Illya nodded and waved to them. “Even better. Minions.” Illya moved as quickly as he could, helping Napoleon to his feet. “We’d better take cover. Grab the mattress.”

“Why?”

“We’re being rescued, minion style.”

“Dear lord!” They retreated to the far wall and held the mattress over them.

The rocket launcher took off the roof above their head as slick as scum off a pond. Masonry and wood rained down while a cloud of dust enveloped them. There was a second the third explosion and then the sound of gunfire.

“I almost feel sorry for the THRUSH.” Napoleon grimaced at the sound of a fart gun discharging. “Almost.”

There was a sound outside their door and Illya shouted, “We’re in here.”

“Okay, boss!” Stuart had the door off its hinges in the span of moments. “ _Bello!”_

“Boy, is it great to see you.”

“ _To nama tee_ ,” he said, reaching out to touch the bruise on Illya’s face.

“Yes, we’re both hurt.”

“Kaylay ka to!” and a pack of minions raced by, weapons in hand.

“Napoleon, if there is anything that is going to raise that spirit...”

“He’ll get just what he deserves…” A trio of Section Two agents entered and Napoleon smiled. “Just what he deserves…” and he slipped into unconsciousness.

He woke up in the all too familiar walls of Medical. Illya glanced up from the book he was reading. “Finally! I was beginning to think you were never going to come around.”

Napoleon held up a bandaged forearm to an equally bandaged head. “What happened?”

“You miss all the fun.” Illya took his glasses off and then poured some water into a plastic cup. “Here, drink this.”

Napoleon sipped, making a face. “Well, at least I know I’m back in the city. You look like you came out all right.”

“Mostly just bruises for a change. Still, it’s been nice to be on a bed with fresh sheets and no bugs.” 

Napoleon awkwardly set the cup back down and sighed. “I hear that. Anyhow, the minions were quite happy to find us.”

“And the ghost?”

“Well, I have a feeling that’s a story for another day.”

“Illya—“ The door to their room opened and Stuart, Kevin, and Bob entered carrying a large basket, wrapped in yellow cellophane.

” _Bello_!” Bob run to Napoleon’s side and gave his uninjured arm a hug.

“Um, _bello,”_ He looked over at Illya who mouthed ‘Bob’. “Bob.”

“ _Amee nama to_?”

“We’re doing okay, Bob, thank you.” 

Stuart and Kevin grunted the basket up onto the small table between them. “ _Para tu_.”

“For us?” Illya grinned and sat up swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Thank you. Did you get everything cleaned up at that old house?”

“ _No sopa_.” Kevin made a smoothing motion with his hand.

“Excellent.” Napoleon raised the back of his bed and Bob’s eyes grew large.

“ _Tot_.”

“Yeah, it is pretty cool,” Illya said, removing the cellophane from the basket. Inside were nothing but banana skins. He held on up and the three minions giggled nervously. “Well, I suppose it’s the thought that counts.”

“ _Pak tis ranfly_ ,” Stuart said, then his snapped his fingers. “Oh, _Lasmun_?”

A vaporous figure of a man in torn clothes and grievous bodily harm, drifted in, struggling to carry a second basket of fruit and wine. “I hate this. I hate you,” he said to Stuart.

For his part, the minion just smiled as his eye narrowed as he steepled his fingers. “ _Hepas_ …” 

To nama tee? – you are hurt?

Kaylay ka to – Have at you!

Amee nama to - how are you?

Para tu – for you.

No sopa – No problem.

Tot – cool

Pak tis ranfly - that is correct

Lasmun – doctor

Hepas – excellent.


End file.
